


Handmaid's Blue Butt Bonanza

by High_Spanxicutioner



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Camshows, Exhibitionism, F/F, Forced Discipline, Humiliation, In Which The Handmaid Spanks Her Way Through The Cerulean Ranks; Slowly But Surely, Spanking, wedgies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High_Spanxicutioner/pseuds/High_Spanxicutioner
Summary: In which the Handmaid, for varying reasons, finds herself dishing out discipline to the blue-hued babes of a particular time period.She's not really sure how this came to be, either.





	Handmaid's Blue Butt Bonanza

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for a good friend of mine! Blame her for the title.

The duties of the Handmaid are many and varied, though some are admittedly far more enjoyable than most. These days, however, the Handmaid herself has taken to not trying to figure out whether an assignment will be satisfying or frustrating before she sets out, out of a sheer desire to avoid disappointments.  
Even with that being said, though, the least she can say about this job is that it should at least be interesting. No murder, no political sabotage, no casualties- she just needs to scare and discipline a blueblood getting a little too big for her britches. In fact, Handmaid is relatively confident that this isn't even going to be difficult for her.

 

One barely of-age brat isn't going to pose much of a problem to the supernatural harbinger of destruction and war, after all.

  
Of course, the major question that must be answered before operations can begin is... just what is she going to do? She doesn't see it as necessary to kill the girl, nor would it really be effective, and a short scare won't exactly do the trick...  
A little more research was necessary, and so that's exactly what the Handmaid did; she scoured the girl's life and business from around the time she started posing a threat to the overall goal of her timeline, and found a few choice things. Most notably, her streaming service, of lowbloods being locked in cages and made to perform physical chores of laughable banality. Purely for the sake of humiliation, it seems, not for the sake of actually doing the job...

  
An idea flickered and glimmered into being not long after she saw that, and gave the Handmaid her idea, to be carried out during her visit today.  
She won't need any extra tools for this; her presence and her needles should be more than enough to take care of a chore this trivial. All she needs is to pick the right time, and to impose herself into the girl's space; her cerulean mind powers would be useless and ineffectual against the safeguards put in place by her master, so that won't be a concern, and Handmaid sees no indication that the girl's going to be all that adept in physical combat.

  
Ceruleans rarely are, in her experience.

  
With all of that taken care of, all that remains is the simple matter of stepping through time and space to reach her destination in a single stride, and walking through all of the security defences (pathetic, frankly, even for the comparatively low standard Alternia's set for the Handmaid), before she can do her job.  
Her footsteps are silent as she walks through the empty halls of Ardata's home, barely pausing to observe the decor beyond assessing the various threat levels of the different pieces of decoration. This isn't exactly a fortress or an armory, so she's free to make her way further in, past the well-kept halls and into the darker depths of the place. A flight of stairs is descended, her surroundings making the jarring change from comfortable wood and brick to cold, dispassionate stonework. It's a familiar surrounding to the rustblood, though she's never been here before.

  
Ardata is found exactly where the Handmaid expects her to be found- sitting atop her comfortable chair, glass in hand, watching some poor unlucky troll attempt to painstakingly paint a portrait of her.  
It's not the troll she's been sent here to save- she's the preventative. She does this, and her real VIP won't ever end up here.  
While Ardata doesn't notice her, shielded as she is from even passive empathetic abilities, the rows of unfortunates in cages lining her path certainly do, all of them turning in desperate silence towards her; but she's not here for them, and as such she ignores them, striding past the rustblood attempting to paint and stopping once she's within the suddenly surprised blueblood's line of sight.

  
"Who are yo-"

  
"Ardata Carmia." The Handmaid interrupts the imperious question, fixing her target for the evening with a cold, emotionless stare. "You need to cease your activities immediately. All kidnappings and recordings will end, and you will find another path in life. This one is prohibited."  
For a moment, Ardata does look somewhat intimidated, one hand reaching up to press lightly against her own chest as she leans back in her chair, but the spell is broken after a second- evidently, an adult showing up in her hive isn't quite enough to make her give up the ghost, not with the considerable psychic might she possesses.

  
"I don't even WANT to know who the fuck you are. It doesn't matter! You're going to leave now."  
With a smug smile, Ardata lifts a hand up to her head, slender fingers touching gently to her temples as she focuses on channelling her abilities...  
The Handmaid just watches, standing still and silent, as the blueblood's posture falters and her lips twitch down into a worried frown.  
"I... I said, you're going to..."  
"My warning will not be repeated twice."

  
Realising the gravity of her situation, and starting to understand that her abilities won't be of any use to her here, Ardata shrinks back in her chair a little, all three eyes widening in something approaching fair.  
"I..." Ardata licks her suddenly dry lips, uncomfortably aware of the inquisitive stares from all her captives. She can't lose face here, not to some jumped-up rustblood with delusions of grandeur!   
Granted, she is an adult, and Ardata's abilities aren't functioning against her, but a good scare and show of spine should solidify her dominance as a blueblood!  
"Very droll! Leave my hive and maybe I'll show you some mercy. If I'm feeling generous..."  
A shift in posture accompanies her words, the girl changing from slight cowering to relaxing arrogantly on the throne, lifting her glass of suspicious liquid up to her lips to take a sip-- and then flinching as a bolt of energy erupts from the tip of the Handmaid's needle, shattering the glass instantly and causing no end of frantic brushing off from Ardata as she tries to avoid getting cut.

  
"Fuck!"

  
That expletive is all she has time to utter, as the Handmaid had already started closing the distance between them even as the needle fired, a slender hand closing around Ardata's wrist and jarring strength lifting her out of the throne, pulling her up to her feet so the surprisingly short rustblood can look her in the face as they talk.

  
"You act like a wriggler." She states, her inflection flat and unremarkable. It's not a question, just an observation, though Ardata's too busy trying to free her wrist from that vice-like grip to answer either way. "My assignment is to neutralise your operation. I could kill you, but that's wasteful."

  
Ardata blanches as she hears that, going still and inclining her head, looking up at the Handmaid and shrinking back in on herself a little.

  
"I won't kill you." Somehow, the words don't seem all too comforting. "But I will stop you. I will never want to pick a camera up again."  
"Oh, gods- wait, let's be reasonable, we can come up with- oh!"

  
Whatever Ardata was going to offer, her words are interrupted by the sudden and sickening rush of being lifted bodily, her stomach dropping for the brief few moments she's suspended before finally settling as she comes to a halt- too dizzy to notice for a few seconds that she's laid horizontally across the Handmaid's knees, with her terrifying captor sat down on her own throne.  
Of course, her captor wasn't affected by such need to collect her bearings, and as such she'd already been in motion while Ardata had been clearing her head- specifically, those strong and slender hands had been gathering up the hem of Ardata's dress, hiking it up and over her hips to expose her predictably black and lacy underwear; something that Ardata is none too pleased about once she realises, hands flying back to try and cover herself only to be intercepted and pinned to her back firmly.

  
"What are you- ow!"  
Once again, she can barely get a sentence fragment out before she's interrupted- this time, by the sudden and stinging impact of a slender hand striking with surprising force down on her barely-clad behind. All three of her eyes widen in shock at the sensation, her face flooding a cute shade of cerulean as she realises what's going on.  
"No! You can't possibly be planning what I think- ow! Stop it!" She protests, legs kicking uselessly as the Handmaid places slow, methodical swats onto her backside, alternating cheeks to keep the rising sting even and consistent.  
Of course, there's only so effective that she can be with pesky fabric covering her target area, and as such the Handmaid pauses after a couple swats to glance down and purse her lips in thought. During this faint respite, Ardata keeps herself quiet and still, holding her breath and daring to risk a glance over her shoulder at her captor- though before she can feel emboldened enough to speak, the Handmaid makes her move, slender fingers gripping the waistband of the blueblood's underwear and bunching it up, starting to pull the fabric up, rising between her plump cheeks until not a single inch of the grey flesh left covered and the fabric itself burning as it's pulled and ground up by her taint.  
Naturally, Ardata doesn't take too kindly to the humiliating treatment, flailing and letting out a few indignant squeals, her face burning bright blue from the humiliation.  
"Stop it! Unhand me, you absolute brute!" She protests, only diverted from her bratty demands by the Handmaid's firm hand descending once more on her poor behind, the girl robbed of even the faint protection her panties had been providing and leading to her eyes once again widening in shock.

  
"Ow! That- ow! It hurts!" She blurts out, her free hand reaching up to cover her mouth in an attempt to prevent any more pleas slipping free; though, the damage has been done, and the Handmaid now knows that this is indeed having the effect she wants it to.

  
There's a faint pause, and for a split second Ardata thinks that she just might be getting away with only what's been delivered so far, but her hopes come crashing down as the Handmaid reveals the true reason for her moment of stillness; her leg shifts, propping up Ardata's behind even further and shoving her face closer to the stone floor of her dungeon, her upturned target swiftly struck firmly enough to jolt her forward and drag another yelp from her lips.  
All throughout this ordeal, the Handmaid remained silent, and that doesn't change continuing on- her hand rises and falls, the only sounds in the room being that of palm striking flesh and Ardata's pained squeaking as she's soundly spanked for the first time in her life, both echoing over the walls with the kind of intensity and enraptured audience typically reserved for one of her streams.  
Aradata hadn't even handled the first few swats all that well, but as she finds herself squirming uselessly in place and as she feels the burn rise unbearably on her poor behind, she realises with a miserable jolt that there's no way she's leaving this with any sense of dignity intact; an epiphany accompanied by the first little tell-tale sniffle leaving her, a sign that Handmaid takes to double down and deliver a flurry of much harder swats, breaking the metaphorical dam and eliciting a sobbing wail from the poor cerulean across her knees.

  
The spanking continues for a few moments after that, though, really ensuring that Ardata's learning her lesson; it isn't until Handmaid has Ardata's exposed cheeks glowing a bright and burning cerulean that she finally slows, letting the poor girl sniffle and sob for a few moments before she realises that the spanking has finally finished.  
Nodding ever so slightly to herself in satisfaction, Handmaid reaches back down, giving each sore cheek a firm squeeze in turn, listening to the pitch of Ardata's choked squeal and deciding that she's punished the girl enough- at least, enough for the first phase of her plan, anyway.

  
"You aren't done yet." She informs the girl, ignoring the dejected whimper and hoisting the smaller girl up to her feet, whirling her around and taking a firm grasp of her underwear again, barely giving Aradata time to adjust or object before the already-stretched fabric is pulled ever further up her back, the garment miraculously not splitting entirely even as its pulled up so far that the elastic waistband is hooked over her horns and wedged firmly in place, parting her sore cheeks and grinding up uncomfortably with every movement she makes, no matter how minor.  
It seems, though, that Handmaid isn't done yet, marching the protesting and struggling blueblood over to one of her open cages, lifting her up by the back of her strained underwear and shoving her bodily in the metal compartment, reaching through the bars and pulling the girl's slender wrists up and into a pair of cuffs hanging from the top of the cramped cage. Locking them shut, though leaving Ardata able to escape if she really concentrated on pulling the cuffs apart (they're only made for lowbloods, after all), Handmaid strides away, leaving Ardata to sniffle and sob in place, unable to really see what it is the rustblood is doing.  
Behind Ardata, well out of her line of sight, Handmaid moves with clinical efficiency, dragging some of the expensive cameras into place- one pointed at the cage, Ardata's wide and well-spanked ass taking up the majority of the frame with only just enough space above her on the screen to make it clear that her panties have been pulled up over her head, and the second dragged around to point straight at Ardata's face; flushed blue, streaked with makeup and tears, and looking very miserable indeed.  
It clicks after a second what the Handmaid is doing, and Ardata just sniffles a little harder, face burning in shame as the Handmaid clicks open her stream settings and starts an impromptu, longform broadcast.  
Ardata can just turn it off once she regains enough composure to free herself, after all. Handmaid sees no reason to hang around any longer.

  
There's no farewell, just the sound of heeled flats clicking against the stone floor, slowly quieting until they can no longer be heard.

  
A job well done, then.


End file.
